


Light Up

by petiteinsomniac



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Cigarettes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Kinda, M/M, Reconciliation, marvin and whizzer are soft essentially, takes place following the baseball game, the morning after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 16:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16329224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiteinsomniac/pseuds/petiteinsomniac
Summary: What happens when Whizzer Brown realizes that he has a reason to quit smoking, and that the reason's name is Marvin.





	Light Up

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a tweet from @bookofrannells on twitter! I kinda love this headcanon that Whizzer quits smoking for Marvin so here's my little take on how it happened :)

Whizzer awoke and blinked against the darkness of Marvin’s bedroom, adjusting to the shift in his consciousness and his surroundings. It was still quite early, as Whizzer could tell by the pale strips of sunlight that were filtering in through the slats of the blinds on the window. At Whizzer’s side, nestled into the mattress with his head of wild curls resting at the edge of one of the pillows, was Marvin. Whizzer maintained his gaze on him, taking in the moment. Marvin’s face was peaceful in sleep, and his limbs were relaxed, one hand resting against Whizzer’s own smooth, bare skin. He couldn’t help the slight smile that crept onto his features as he watched Marvin sleep there in the bed they had shared the night before. It had been the first time they had done so in two years, and as Whizzer reflected on Jason’s baseball game and the events that had followed, he was thinking that it all felt incredibly different. Whizzer watched as Marvin turned his head ever so slightly into the pillow and decided that it felt like a good kind of different. In his sleep, Marvin smiled slightly and Whizzer felt a rush of affection hit his chest. In that moment, he was wishing that he could stay right there, watching Marvin like that, forever. 

No sooner had he thought it, had he also come to the unfortunate realization that he couldn’t. A twinge of sadness crept into his chest alongside the craving for a cigarette that had just made itself known as it did each morning. He didn’t want to leave Marvin, not now. Not for that. It was a habit of his that Marvin had always abhorred. Despite how common it was to smoke, Marvin never had and he’d never understood why anyone did. Now, Whizzer recalled the evening before, when he’d been forced to interrupt his remarkably engaged and enjoyable conversation with Marvin over coffee for this exact reason. He remembered for a moment the flash of sadness on Marvin’s face then, so different from the anger that once had taken over his features at the sight of Whizzer’s pack of cigarettes. It had hit him then, as Marvin had gently said, “You shouldn’t, you know,” with that sad look behind the blue of his eyes, that maybe he should quit. Whizzer himself didn’t even like smoking anymore, and as he slowly started to edge off of the mattress and away from Marvin’s warm, sleeping figure, he was thinking that this was the first time that he might have someone to quit for. 

He was still thinking about it several minutes later as he leaned on the cold kitchen windowsill and lit his cigarette. 

 

When Marvin awoke, he instantly felt as if something were missing. At first, he didn’t have any clue what it could be. But then, it all came rushing back to him, starting with the baseball game. Starting with sitting on the bleachers and watching Whizzer saunter in like he owned the place, but his usual confidence undercut by something Marvin had been unable to identify. It was strange, but there was a certain tenderness in Whizzer’s eyes in that moment as he had looked almost nervously at Marvin, a tenderness that had stayed there through the afternoon and evening, even in the throes of the passion that later overtook them. At least, Marvin had thought so. Now, as he looked around at the cool, empty bed that he’d just woken up in, he wasn’t so sure. What he was sure of, however, was that he now knew what was missing: Whizzer. Marvin sighed, turning over from his side to his back and staring at the ceiling as his heart ached in his chest. He thought about the way Whizzer had curled up with him the night before, his head resting against Marvin’s shoulder, and how incredibly right it had felt. How right it had seemed, to both of them. 

Or so he had thought. 

But now it appeared that Whizzer wasn’t so much on the same page, because he was gone, and Marvin was alone again, and as he started to drag himself out of bed and back to reality, he wondered what had gone through whizzer’s mind as he had left sometime while Marvin was asleep. He tried not to wonder if Whizzer had felt any sadness, as he slipped a rogue sweatshirt over his head, quickly put on a pair of jeans that he’d left on his chair, and then started his shuffle down the hallway to the kitchen. When his bare feet hit cool tile, Marvin glanced up and stopped in his tracks. Standing at the window, muscular arms leaning on the windowsill and elegant features turned away from Marvin as his messy dark hair was rustled in the wind, was Whizzer. Marvin’s heart beat a cacophany of erratic thumps in his chest and he could do nothing but stare. Whizzer, alerted more by the presence of Marvin than the sound of him, turned and Marvin watched a warm smile lift his lips as his eyes lit up at the sight of the older man with a wrinkled sweatshirt and mess of chestnut hair. Marvin watched a thin trail of light grey smoke furl against the backdrop of the early morning sky outside the window and tears sprang unbidden to his eyes. 

 

Whizzer, it seemed, had not left at all. He stood right there in Marvin’s kitchen, watching Marvin as Marvin watched him and never in his life had Marvin wanted to be in the arms of another human being more than he wanted to be in Whizzer’s right then. 

“I thought you had left,” he said, barely hearing himself but noting the way his own voice broke as Whizzer’s soft, still-sleepy smile melted into beautiful concern. Marvin watched as Whizzer immediately, hastily, put out his cigarette in the ashtray that Marvin kept but never used, and took two steps across the kitchen toward Marvin. Whizzer’s heartbeat was fast, too; this was not how he had imagined this morning would go, but right then he couldn’t be bothered with thoughts of the choffee he’d been planning to brew or the kiss with which he had wanted to wake Marvin. He’d wanted things to be different this time, and different they were, but not the right kind of different because Marvin was crying and Whizzer’s heart was breaking and it was all because of his stupid nicotine addiction. All because he’d been forced to leave the bed at all. If not for that, Marvin would have woken with Whizzer and maybe then there wouldn’t be tears making their way along his cheeks. Now, he stood before Marvin, unsure of what to do. This, he realized suddenly, was uncharted territory between the two of them, but Whizzer desperately wanted to make it better, so he hesitantly brought his fingers up to caress the skin of Marvin’s cheek, wiping away two of Marvin’s tears in the process. Marvin took a shuddering breath at the physical contact, and hear d himself repeat the words he’d just spoken. 

“I thought you had left,” he said again, “But you’re still here.” Whizzer nodded quickly with a hard swallow. 

“Yes,” he said, but suddenly he drew back, unsure. What if he was reading this wrong? What if Marvin had expected him to leave? A rush of icy reality seemed to flood him then, and he took a half-step back. “Did you,” he began slowly, trying desperately to school his features, “Did you want me to go?” He hoped his voice wasn’t shaking the way he felt it must be, if it reflected anything he was feeling on the inside. 

“What?” Marvin asked sharply, his gaze snapping up to meet Whizzer’s. “No,” he said fiercely. “No, no, I-” something seemed to melt in him and his eyes turned imploring as he looked at his lover. “Please don’t,” he finished in a voice softer than Whizzer had ever heard him use. Whizzer’s breath caught, and right then all he could think of was making sure that Marvin never had to look at him the way he was right then. In truth, he was surprised by the intensity of his feelings for Marvin. After all, it had been not so long ago that he’d never wanted to see the man again. Now, however, he couldn’t imagine leaving for a moment, let alone forever. He didn’t really know why, or what it meant, and there was still a lot to discuss. Whizzer wasn’t naive enough to believe otherwise. But this- all of this, whatever it was- made Whizzer feel deeply hopeful, and in that moment he decided that for now, that was enough. 

“Hey,” he said gently, noting the way that tears gathered in Marvin’s eyes again and once more taking note of the difference in the man before him and the one he had left two years earlier. At the same time, Whizzer took note of the difference in himself. “Come here,” he offered, and less than a second later, Marvin was in his arms. Something about that felt good, and right, in a way that it never had before. Whizzer could feel Marvin’s breath hitch under the hand that rested on Marvin’s back, and he rubbed his palm soothingly against Marvin’s spine. 

“Shh” he soothed. “Its okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, alright?” 

“I just-” 

“I know,” Whizzer was quick to assure him. “I’m sorry that I was gone when you woke up,” he said. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, I just-” Frustration with himself built in his voice and Whizzer broke off with a small sigh. 

Marvin nodded against him, burying his face into the crook of Whizzer’s neck. Clinging to the sweatshirt that he was wearing was the scent of Whizzer- a mix of something sweet and vaguely floral, and the thin haze of cigarette smoke. It was, Marvin thought, the one and only time that he was glad to be taking in that scent, because it meant that Whizzer was there with him. 

“I’m sorry,” Marvin said quietly. Whizzer thought about that for a moment; it felt heavier than an apology for his emotional response, which in itself was something more than the fear that Whizzer had left that morning. Ultimately, Whizzer nodded his head and buried his nose against the wild curls on Marvin’s head, soft and familiar and smelling of whatever typical manly shampoo Marvin used. Whatever it was, Whizzer decided that he liked it. It was clean, and pleasant, and more importantly it spoke of Marvin and home and belonging. 

“It’s okay” he said, and Marvin felt the weight of the answer just as Whizzer had felt the weight of the question. Whizzer pressed a kiss to the top of Marvin’s head and held him just a little bit tighter, wrapping his fingers in Marvin’s hoodie. 

As they held one another there in the kitchen, the chill of the late winter air no longer cold enough to touch them as they exchanged body heat and wrapped their fingers in the fabric of each other’s clothing, Whizzer thought about the cigarette he’d just had. Then he thought about all of his cigarettes; the things they’d interrupted in the past, but perhaps more importantly the things that they would be interrupting the future. Whizzer was hopeful for that future, and as he wrapped Marvin up close to his chest and leaned into the tentative, light kiss of Marvin’s lips against the elegant curve of his collarbone, Whizzer made up his mind. That future wasn’t going to be interrupted by the vice that he barely even enjoyed. Whizzer was determined- from that moment on, he had decided he was going to spend every moment he could at Marvin’s side, and something that unimportant wouldn’t tear him away from it. 

“I’m going to make coffee,” he said softly, pulling back from Marvin just enough to see the way Marvin’s eyes lit up with something brighter than the tip of any cigarette at his words. 

“You’re staying, then?” he asked with a hopeful note in his guarded, careful tone. Whizzer smiled warmly and laced his fingers with Marvin’s, running his thumb over Marvin’s knuckle as he nodded his head affirmatively. 

“I’m staying,” he repeated. Marvin smiled and Whizzer smiled back at him, each of them watching one another for a moment, wrapped in their own hopes for what all of this meant.

And as for the cigarette that lay discarded in Marvin’s ashtray on the windowsill? It would be the last one that Whizzer Brown ever smoked.


End file.
